


The fun always doubles with two (or, the amazing power of the magic wand)

by ChocoNut



Series: Modern JB love [67]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter References, Misunderstandings, Sex Toys, Sexy Times, The magic wand, Though the wand in question is NOT that, misunderstood conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28264308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Jaime overhears Brienne has bought herself a new wand. The ardent Harry Potter fan that he is, he’s upset she didn’t tell him about it, let alone show it to him.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Modern JB love [67]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69





	The fun always doubles with two (or, the amazing power of the magic wand)

Jaime was a Harry Potter fan through and through.

If there was one thing that shattered his heart, it was one (or, sometimes worse, more) of his friends indulging in fan cravings and keeping him out of it. 

First, it was Tyrion who’d ordered the limited edition DVDs without consulting him. Pained when he’d learned of it much later, Jaime couldn’t decide what was more disturbing—his brother purchasing the set behind his back and showing it to him only after he’d unwrapped and unboxed them or that he’d bought it online. How on earth could one forgo the pleasure of walking into a store, feeling the magic, the aura all around before going for the kill and picking it up? The purchase experience was half the thrill. 

After that it was Sansa who’d decided on a whim she wanted to dip her toes into the books. After years of calling it a children’s publication, after countless arguments, countless instances of turning a deaf-ear to all their saucy discussions on the plot, on the casting, on the tears they’d shed at every character death, their friend couldn’t stay out of it anymore. It would all have been fine had she treated this as her formal induction into the fandom and consulted him, the biggest fan among them all before she made the huge beginning. But no, she had to just stop by the nearest bookstore on her way home and pick up the set. How not-at-all thrilling!

Both of them and a couple of other such instances, he’d dusted away and forgiven, though not forgotten, but what Brienne had done today was a downright betrayal. And she was the reason he’d spent a good chunk of the day pacing the house, sulking alone on a Saturday when he ought to have been doing something more fruitful like running through _The Deathly Hallows_ with a fine-toothed comb, or maybe, sat down to refine the sixth version of his mile-long essay comparing the books and the movies. 

But by late evening he’d come to realize brooding and ruminating over how she’d behaved worse than the lads who’d wronged him in school was going to do him no good.

There was only one way he could settle this. A confrontation with the wench. For the sake of both their friendship and the fandom, he had to get the truth out there. 

+++++

“Hey!” 

Smiling as if she were the most innocent woman in the world, she held the door open for him. “I was just making pasta. Wanna join me for dinner?”

Jaime took a long hard look at those big blue eyes. No sign of guilt or anything else. She hadn’t upset him on purpose. But then, how could she even do this to him? “No thanks,” he said, trying to keep this as low-key on the emotions side of it as possible.

She narrowed her eyes. “Sure? You love pasta.”

“So where is it?” he asked, steering her away from the subject of dinner.

“Where is what?”

She went in to get him a bottle of water, and he took the opportunity to survey her living room, expecting to catch a glimpse of the rare collectible as he made himself comfortable on her couch. “If you show it to me before any of the others get to see it, I might actually forgive you.”

Her hand froze on the fridge handle. “What the hell are you talking about, Jaime?”

Unable to pretend to be nice and inquiring anymore, he followed her into the kitchen, cornered her to the fridge. “Don’t play this innocence card with me,” he accused her, challenging those incredible eyes to come out with it. “You bought a wand without telling me. Admit it.”

There it was—her face first went pale, then took on a beautiful scarlet that screamed of stealth and guilt, the reaction any red-blooded person would have the courtesy of showing if caught red-handed at something like this. “H—” she stuttered “—how the hell did you find out about that?”

He’d come here to shove his discovery down her throat and storm out of there, but something about her reaction got on to him, bringing up this other thing he’d felt for her for ages. So much he’d dreamed of doing with her—to her, but a woman like her and him—

“Jaime?”

“The walls have ears, Brienne.” It made sense to restrict it to Harry Potter as of now. “I heard Sansa tell Margaery that you bought this for yourself, a present, she was sure, would ensure you have an explosive holiday.”

“Jaime, I—” she looked distressed, like he was putting her through a trial “—I don’t want to talk about this—”

“You could’ve, at least, told me about it,” he complained. He wanted to be angry with her, but when he let himself be sucked into her trembling lips and that wobbling chin, it went from the feeling of being left out to this other something he’d been making an effort keeping to himself. “We could’ve played with it together,” he whined, hoping this continued portrayal of the betrayed friend might quell the raging need to pin her to the fridge and kiss her senseless. “If you didn’t want the other guys to know, we could’ve taken it out in private, in your bedroom, perhaps—”

“Jaime—” If there existed a shade of red deeper than her cheeks, he was yet to come across it. “It’s—it’s not what you’re thinking—”

“You can play with a wand alone, but the fun doubles with two, you know. I have a wand too, wench.” He recalled the Holly and Phoenix feather first-edition replica he’d purchased when _The Sorcerer’s Stone_ came out. One of his prized possessions, he still treasured it, took it out often to admire it, and spent quality time with it. “And if you’d been honest with me, I’d have let you in on it,” he mumbled on. “We could’ve had fun together—”

“Jaime, you don’t know what you’re saying. I think you’re drunk—”

Why the hell would she think he was drunk? Anyway, that wasn’t the point for argument now. He didn’t want to digress. “Mine’s a bit used—” he returned to his wand, to its texture “—pliant, but it can be hard enough to—” 

“What?” he demanded, when her mouth fell open. “I’m not exaggerating. It does live up to its purpose, does the job quite well,” he kept going. “And I can’t think of anyone else I want to team it up with. We could’ve used tonight to bond, to—”

“Jaime, just shut up.”

Stung, he obeyed, this time.

“I think you ought to leave now.” she said quietly, refusing to meet his eye.

*****

The TV shunned into silence, her phone switched off and she herself in bed much earlier than usual on a Saturday night—this wasn’t how Brienne had expected her weekend to go. How dare Jaime—how the hell could he— 

_Of course._

She sat up when it dawned on her, at last. He was rambling on about a stupid Harry Potter collectible, while she had, for those embarrassing few seconds, thought he was drunk without even sparing consideration to the fact that he was, otherwise, perfectly sober and stable. Now, when she gave it his level of thought, it all made sense.

Harry Potter. What else could it be? Did he even know what a wand meant out of this context?

She pulled it out from her nightstand drawer, and setting it to its lowest setting, positioned the bulbous head between her legs. Eyes closed, she massaged it up and down. This was bliss, the gentle purring was driving her body crazy, and in her mind, turning her on to the most insane extent possible, was Jaime shoving his bit-used trusty (and thrusty, if that was even a word) old wand into her.

Hard and erect and good enough to get the job done—yes, that was all she needed. And that was the _only_ thing she was never going to get. In real life there wasn’t a way Jaime would get down with a woman like her—

She cranked the speed up to the next level. That this was all a horrible misunderstanding wasn’t going to get her tonight. She stroked, she kept it pressed where it mattered the most, rubbing up and down until it began to lure her into a slow, but sure death. 

“Oh gods, yes,” she moaned, drowning her disappointment at Jaime’s naivety in the pressure mounting between her legs. “Yes, _yes_ —”

The vibrations spread down her thighs, rumbling into the farthest depths of her walls, all over to the tips of her toes—

She writhed when the contractions began taking her down, when his ruthless pounding in the guise of her magical device began lifting her off her bed to heights she’d never, yet, been able to reach. 

With one last push, with a strangled, “ _yes,_ ” that reverberated across the room, she came harder than she’d ever come before.

“Oh, Jaime,” she sighed, sinking into the mattress, her body trembling from the earthquake, her wand rolling over half-way across the bed.

If only—

A knock at the door—no, two tentative knocks—it brought her back to the world of the real. She got up—it took her a couple of seconds to steady her wobbly knees. Straightening her nightie, she shoved away the discarded panties into the laundry bin on her way out to answer the door. While it was, by no means, so late that visitors couldn’t call, who could have possibly bothered to come by, uninformed?

What she didn’t expect was staring into his face, one look at which told her he’d finally figured out the mystery of the wand.

“Brienne, I came here to—”

“We’re good, there’s no need to explain,” she hurriedly put an end to whatever he was going for. An apology for the misunderstanding was far from what she needed tonight. She could do without a double confirmation that someone as hot as Jaime could never ever desire a woman like her. “Now if there’s nothing else—”

“There is, actually.” He slipped in, pushed the door shut. “We need to talk. We can’t ignore the elephant in the room, wench.”

She raised her hands. “I get it. You came here to acknowledge what happened earlier was a misunderstanding, to apologize—”

“Oh, I’m not here to apologize.” He sidled up to her, and Brienne felt a rush of sensations begin at the nape of her neck and race away through all the way down to the base of her spine. There was something in the way he was looking at her, in the low sexy rumble of his voice, which like her newly-acquired toy was beginning to nudge her towards another delightful journey of pleasure and agony. “I came to ask if I could see your wand, if we could—you know—” she could feel the heat from his eyes rip through the barrier of her thin nightgown “— _play_.”

While her lady-bits woke up to the prospect of playing with him, a part of her warned her to take this slowly. She waited—waited for him to take it further.

And he did. In the most crazily amazing way possible.

Before she could remind herself to breathe, his arms went around her waist. Before she could process the naked longing in his eyes, he seized her in a kiss that was too hot to be true. Jaime was on fire. And he made sure he took her down with him—his groping fingers, his sizzling lips, the unabashedly urgent urge of his tongue to explore— 

With a moan, she gave in, sank into his caress, grinding her hips against the _wand_ that had woken up, eager to cast its magic and rock her world.

It was—it was the most incredible thing to happen to her—his kiss, his need for her, this wild temptation to rip off each other's clothes right here and right now. 

“So,” he panted, releasing her when they could take it no more. His scorching gaze was hungrily patting her down, undressing her. “Will you let me play with your new wand, Brienne?” He teased her with a wicked smile loaded with intent. “And you can play with mine,” he seductively offered, his tone getting hoarser, sexier. “It’s a bit used, but it’ll get the job done, I can assure you of that.”

The throbbing between her legs uncontrollable now, he’d completely ruined _taking it slowly_. She presses her legs together. She wanted him now. Hard and fast like it had always unfolded in every dimension of her imagination.

“As someone once said—” grabbing his wrist, she dragged him into the bedroom and slammed the door shut “—the fun always doubles with two.”

And she couldn’t wait to prove it with him.

Two wands. The two of them. What more could a girl ask for on a cold December night?

**Author's Note:**

> So... this one got pushed off to my never-to-be-seen folder, but then, I decided to post it on second thoughts.  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
